


No Regrets

by Fyre



Series: Just Lady Things [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3462464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy's quiet night in does not go entirely as she expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write something of this kind for a while. Just didn't expect it to be done within 2 hours on a quiet Sunday night. It's also my first time really writing Angie. That was surprisingly fun :)

The rain was lashing against the window.

Peggy went over to draw the heavy curtains closed.

It didn’t feel quite so bleak with a fire burning in the hearth and a sherry in the glass in her hand.

She heard the door creak quietly behind her. Jarvis had apologised profusely about it, but it was something of a comfort to hear her housemate enter a room. The house was large enough that she felt quite dwarfed, and to have someone walk into a room unheard had made her jump more than once. 

“Some day, huh?”

Peggy turned with a smile. “We used to call this the indoor weather at home.”

Angie pulled her housecoat closer around her. “You mind if I come in?”

“Of course not!” she said. “This is one of the common rooms, Angie. You know you don’t have to ask.”

Angie smiled. “It’s called manners, Peg. You might have been doing top secret spy stuff again.”

“Angie…” Peggy began with a sigh.

“I know, I know,” Angie said with a roll of her eyes. “Not a spy. Just working for people who totally aren’t the telephone company.” Her eyes danced. “I bet that’s what all people who are top secret spies say.”

Peggy made a face at her. “You met some top secret spies,” she said.

“Yeah.” Angie snorted. “You’re telling me the security of the country is in the hands of those guys? I swear they thought I was gonna explode or something when I started crying on them.” She strolled over to the couch and flung herself down. “They always like that?”

“Some of them, most of them time,” Peggy agreed ruefully. She settled on the other end of the couch, drawing her feet up. 

Angie winced. “No wonder you wanted to hide out from them.” She dug into the pockets of her housecoat and pulled out a selection of bottles. “Hey, you want me to do your nails, once I’ve done mine?”

It was such a novel suggestion, something so simple, so feminine, that Peggy had to smile. “I would like that.”

Angie beamed at her, then slid off the couch to sit on the rug in front of it, setting out the bottle on the floor. “I got pretty good at it,” she said over her shoulder. “I mean not like open-a-salon-good but good enough that some of the girls in the kick-lines ask me to help them with their toes. Gotta look good for the top-price seats, right down to the toenails.”

“It’s not an area of expertise I’m familiar with,” Peggy admitted. “I tend to fingernails and no more. My mother always used to say rather derogatory things about a lady who painted her toenails.”

Angie raised her eyebrows. “Is it the same kinda thing they say about the girls working on Broadway? If so, I heard it all from my mom, every time she came by.” She picked a bottle of rich red varnish and set to work on her left hand. “Everyone says that about someone, even if they never met someone who does it.”

Peggy considered it. “I think we should do one another’s toenails, then,” she said. Perhaps it was the sherry, but it seemed like a frankly marvellous idea. “We shall be painted strumpets together.”

“Strumpets?” Angie giggled. “English, you’re so English.”

“Born and raised,” Peggy agreed, smiling. She set aside her half-finished glass and dropped a cushion onto the floor beside Angie. “So, what do you think?”

Angie looked at her with a smaller, quieter smile. “I think I like you even better when you’re happier,” she said. “You don’t look like you got the weight of the world sitting on you anymore.”

“I may just be a tad tipsy,” Peggy warned.

“Nope. This is more than booze.” Angie’s expression was warm. “You look happier.”

Perhaps happier wasn’t the right word, but more at peace was accurate. Although she still missed him, Steve was gone, and she had made her peace with that. She had finally be able to say goodbye in a way she hadn’t before. It was… comforting.

She leaned sideways and knocked her shoulder against Angie’s. “I’m better,” she agreed. “Much better than I was. And I have a lovely, kind, pretty friend who is willing to share a house with me and paint me up like a hussy.”

Angie elbowed her. “Shut up,” she grumbled, but her cheeks were pink.

“It’s only the truth,” Peggy insisted. She wiggled her fingers. “And I am thus far unpainted.”

“Geez, Peg!” Angie held up her own hand. “Haven’t you heard of patience?”

Peggy feigned confusion. “Is it a cake?”

Angie shook her head, laughing, and elbowed her again. “I’ll finish mine, then I’ll do you.”

She was done with her own nails less than five minutes later, and by the warm firelight, she turned her attention to Peggy’s. It felt odd to be settled so comfortably and happily with another woman, doing something so trivial, but it was wonderful and so very different from every bit of her life for nearly the past seven years.

What made it better was knowing it was Angie.

It was so difficult to maintain female friends when one had opinions and views, and even more so when one was in the armed forces, doing a job most officers believed was only suited to a man. It was harder still to maintain a sense of self when struggling against such things.

Angie had taken her as she was, even with the deception and the secrets. Now that she knew a hint of them, Angie didn’t seem to mind that the secrets were still there. In fact, it seemed to amuse her that she was ’shacked up’ with a secret agent, as she insisted on saying.

Peggy watched the way Angie deftly painted her fingernails. She did it neatly, three smooth strokes of the brush for each nail, and hardly any of it going over the edges.

“You really are awfully good at that.”

“If you had my aunt Lisa, you’d get good real fast too,” Angie replied without looking up. “You got even a lick of colour on her skin, and I swear to God, my mom thought the end of the world was coming. You’d’a thought I’d opened the gates of hell or something.”

“Your family sounds very busy.”

“Mm.” Angie’s nose wrinkled. “Got more aunts and uncles and cousins than I can shake a big stick at. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love them and everything, but sometimes, it’s kinda nice to be able to not see them for a while.”

Peggy thought of Howard, and how often she was torn between smacking him and hugging him. “Yes, I think I share the sentiment.”

Angie sat up. “There. All done.”

Peggy tilted her hands, examining the nails. They were beautifully done and she blew on them lightly to dry them. “And my toes?”

Angie looked at her in surprise. “You were serious?”

In response, Peggy shifted on her seat on the cushion. “I’ll need to take my…” She paused, frowning at her nails. “Damn. I’ll have to wait until my fingers are dry. I still have my stockings on.” She looked at Angie. “Unless you could take them off.”

To her surprise, Angie blushed scarlet. “Me? Peg, I dunno…”

“Oh come on,” Peggy said, nudging her housecoat open enough to show her garter belt. “I doubt you are unfamiliar with a lady’s legs.”

Angie’s eyes darted down. “Yeah,” she said, and her voice was hoarser. “I’ve seen your legs before.” She swallowed hard and looked up at Peggy. “I shouldn’t.”

There was something in her expression that reached passed the warm glow of sherry. Peggy smoothed her housecoat back down. “I’m awfully sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She could have kicked herself. “I forgot you didn’t have to get used to the immodesty of war.”

“Immodesty?” Angie looked up at her in surprise. “It’s not… I mean, I… Peg, it’s just…” She exhaled noisily and reached for her bottles, trying to gather them all up in her hands. “It’s stupid. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Angie!” Peggy caught her wrist. “Talk to me.”

Angie stared at Peggy’s hand on her wrist.

“You ever have someone,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless, and so unlike her that Peggy wondered if she might be ill. “You ever have someone you’re sweet on, but you know you shouldn’t even look that way, because they are so far outta your league that you don’t even deserve to sit on the same bench as them?”

A slight blond man crept into her mind.

“Yes.” Peggy said quietly. “But I didn’t let that stop me.”

“Yeah? And how’d that go?”

Angie’s pulse was racing against her fingertips. Peggy moved her hand gently, trying to calm her. “He saw me the same way, and for a moment, we almost had a chance. I don’t regret reaching out, and I don’t believe he did either.”

“He, huh? Anyone I know?”

Peggy shook her head. “He died,” she murmured, “quite some time ago.”

“And you never regretted it?”

“Not for a…” 

Her words were cut off when Angie’s lips pressed suddenly and briefly to hers.

It was barely a heartbeat of contact, then Angie jerked back as if Peggy had slapped her. Her cheeks were flaming and her eyes wide.

“I’m so sorry, Pegs,” she stammered, scrambling to her feet. “I’ll go back to my room. Pack.”

Peggy stared at her, then lifted her fingertips to her lips. There was a tingle in her blood that she hadn’t had for quite some time, a frisson of excitement and intrigue. “Wait,” she said, as Angie bolted towards the door. Angie froze on the spot. “Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t wanna regret not doing it,” Angie admitted in a whisper. “I just…” She laughed unhappily, turning back around to look at her. “You got no idea what you do to me, do you, Peggy? You just…. You make my day, every time I look at you.”

“I’m nothing special,” Peggy said quietly.

“And I’m the Queen of England! Have you even tried looking at you, English? You got that smile, and those eyes, and geez, those legs…” She clamped a hand over her mouth, as if she hadn’t realised she was still talking. Her eyes were wide, mortified. 

Peggy’s heart was racing, and her mind was awhirl. Of course there had been women she had looked at and found striking, beautiful, mesmerising. And then there was Angie, who she hated to disappoint and delighted in earning a smile from. The whole world told her men and women were only drawn to one another, but she knew that wasn’t true.

There were very few people she ever wanted to earn a smile from.

Angie was one of them.

Peggy got to her feet. “Come here,” she said.

“Why?” Angie asked warily.

“Because I’m asking you to,” Peggy replied. “Please.”

Angie crept back across the floor to her, her hands clutching all her bottles to her chest. “I’m sorry.”

Peggy lifted her hand and brushed a curl back from Angie’s face. “I have one request,” she said quietly. “You didn’t want to regret not doing it. Please don’t regret that you did. Or that I did.”

She leaned closer then and pressed her lips softly to Angie’s.

It was nothing like Steve, but then she had never expected nor wanted it to be. Angie’s lips were smoother and softer and tasted of cherry. She felt Angie’s gasp against her mouth and heard the clatter of the bottles falling to the floor.

“Peggy!” Angie pushed her back. “You don’t gotta.”

“And what if I want to?” Peggy challenged. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. It wasn’t the way she had imagined the evening progressing, but then she hadn’t imagined that Angie had looked at her the way she had looked at Angie. It was an awfully tricky matter to bring up in a conversation. She sank her fingers into Angie’s curls, mussing them up. “And I do want to. An awful lot.”

Angie’s eyes lit up as bright as the lights of Broadway. “You- you do?”

In answer, Peggy pulled her into another kiss, this one less ladylike and far more interesting. It left them both panting against one another’s lips, and Angie clutching at the front of Peggy’s housecoat as if she wanted nothing more than to tear it open. 

Peggy felt light-headed. 

“So,” she whispered against Angie’s lips. “I believe you were going to remove my stockings.”

Angie’s cheeks flamed again, but she grinned. “You might wanna sit down, English. I might be real good at nails, but there are some things I do even better.”

Peggy hesitated. The logistics of the matter had never really crossed her mind before. “Where?” she asked. Angie, after all, seemed to know what she was doing. 

“Couch,” Angie replied, then kissed her again, catching her waist and steering her around to guide her back. Now that she knew she wasn’t about to get slapped or pushed back, Angie’s kisses were eager and playful. Her tongue darted against Peggy’s, and Peggy felt the belt of her robe pulling loose. “Sit.”

Peggy drew back from the kiss to sink down.

Angie was standing over her, flushed and gorgeous, her own lipstick smeared with the deeper red of Peggy’s brand, and her eyes shining. She pulled out the cushion Peggy had been sitting on, and knelt down on it, pressing her hands to Peggy’s knees, pushing them gently apart.

“You sure about this?”

Peggy’s mouth was dry and her heart racing, but she had never been so absolutely certain of anything. She sprawled back, letting her housecoat fall open and reveal her petticoat and knickers. “What do you think?”

Angie’s eyes ran over her from knee to neckline, and she licked at her lips as if Peggy was the dish of the day. “What in the hell did I do to deserve you?” she asked breathlessly. 

Peggy felt her own blush spreading. “You noticed me.”

Angie lunged down, catching her mouth in another heated kiss, her hands spreading on Peggy’s thighs. Peggy reached up to tangle her fingers in Angie’s hair, and tightened her legs around the other woman’s waist, holding her closer.

When Angie lifted her head, her eyes were dark and hungry. “You want me to stop anytime, you let me know,” she whispered. Her lips skimmed Peggy’s, swallowing her shivering breaths. “God, I’m gonna treat you so good.” 

She pressed her lips to Peggy’s cheek, and then to her throat, and Peggy shuddered as Angie’s teeth scraped against her jugular. Angie giggled and kissed her ear playfully.

“Don’t hold back, Pegs. I wanna hear.” She teased her tongue along the shell of Peggy’s earlobe, and confided in a whisper, “I love your accent. Talk to me, Pegs. Tell me what you want.”

Peggy’s fingers curled into her hair. “More of that,” she breathed. “Everything. I hardly know where to start.”

Angie’s smile was palpable against her throat. “I’m your first dame?”

“And my second person,” Peggy whispered.

That brought Angie up short and she lifted her head, eyes wide. “For sure?”

“Oh, for the love of God!” Peggy groaned, and pulled Angie’s mouth back down to hers. It was a brief, demanding kiss. “We can talk later. Now, please do whatever it was you were starting to do, because it felt rather nice.”

Angie grinned like a cat and lowered her head. Not to Peggy’s lips or to her throat again, but instead, her mouth closed over Peggy’s nipple through the silk of her slip, and she darted her tongue against it. Peggy hissed through her teeth, and Angie only made matters worse when she blew softly against the damp fabric. The flicker of want that shot through Peggy’s body shocked her with the intensity.

“Oh!”

“Mm-hm.” Angie’s mouth went to her other nipple, and her hum of approval tingled right through Peggy’s body. Angie’s fingers teased the dampened nipple, drawing the slip down and rolling the hardening tip between two clever fingertips. Her tongue darted against the covered breast and she whispered there, “You like it?”

“Y-yes,” Peggy gasped, then inhaled sharply as Angie sucked one side and tweaked the other, and the combined sensations were like fire. 

Her body twitched beneath Angie’s and Angie leaned closer, sucked harder, and ran her thumb in a slow circle around Peggy’s nipple. Over and over, she did it, slow and then fast, hard and then soft, until Peggy was almost squirming under her. 

“My… oh…”

Angie lifted her head, smiling. “You’re even prettier when you’re horny, English,” she purred, sliding further down Peggy’s body, pressing hot, wet kisses to the silk of Peggy’s slip all the way down her belly. The damp silk clung here and there, cooler, and it was too many sensations, warm and cool, dry and wet and Angie’s fingers slid off her breast and down, down, pushing her slip up.

Peggy’s mouth was dry and she shivered as Angie’s hands settled on the clips at the top of her stockings. Angie’s eyes met hers, held them, as she flicked the hooks on each garter, and without looking away, started pushing the stocking down, smooth as silk. She’d done it before, Peggy realised, and not just her own stockings.

Hot lips pressed to the inside of her thigh and Peggy had to reach back and grasp the back of the couch, her hips lifting demandingly. 

“You want more?” Angie breathed. She was sitting back on her heels between Peggy’s spread thighs, and Peggy knew she ought to have felt mortified and ashamed, one breast bared, her stockings at her ankles, and her knickers damp with want. 

“Lord, yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

She didn’t know what she expected. It certainly wasn’t the eager way Angie leaned forward, and through the silk of her knickers, she felt the slip of an eager tongue against her most private parts. The rush of heat that flooded her made her knock her head back against the couch and she hissed, reaching down with her free hand to grasp Angie’s hair.

“Yes, that, there…” She didn’t know what she was asking for, nor what she wanted, but whatever it was, Angie knew, and her mouth was pressing to the silk, dragging it slowly against her, and the heat and the pressure made Peggy bite down on her lip to keep a pitiful moan from escaping her. 

Angie’s face was so close, and she could feel Angie’s shoulders beneath her thighs, Angie’s hands sliding up along the top of her thighs to her hips. 

“Lift yourself, baby doll,” Angie whispered. “Let me make it real good.”

Peggy had a moment to register her words, and obeyed, and all at once, her knickers were sliding down her thighs, and Angie’s mouth pressed flush against her, and Peggy gave a sharp cry as Angie’s tongue darted against already throbbing nub at the top of her sex. 

Fingers joined her tongue, and Peggy’s hands gripped the chair and Angie’s hair desperately. Angie’s tongue was darting and dancing, quick, then slow, and oh Lord, long strokes that made fireworks flare behind Peggy’s eyes. And just when she didn’t imagine it could get much better, Angie slowly eased two fingers into her, stroking her smooth and deep, every stroke matching a stroke of her tongue. 

Peggy pressed her eyes closed, her feet skittering on the carpet on either side of Angie’s hips. She felt light-headed and was growing more-so by the moment. Angie twisted her fingers suddenly, the pressure of another curled into her, and a thumb stroked her and that mouth was still licking until Peggy was almost sobbing with the pressure building in her. 

Suddenly, Angie’s mouth was gone from between her thighs, and Peggy felt lips against hers, salty and sharp and coaxing hers open again. “Atta girl, baby doll,” Angie whispered, her fingers stroking deeper, her lips wet and warm on Peggy’s. Her thumb stroked at Peggy’s clit in slow circles. “Atta girl. Tell me…”

“Lord, Angie!” Peggy moaned against her lips. “For the love of God, stop talking!”

Angie laughed in delight and kissed her again, and the press of her thumb slowed, over, and over and over, until Peggy was panting with every press, every thrust of Angie’s fingers, and her blood was rushing in her ears, and she was skating on the edge of something, so close, so breathless, and every thought gone.

She gave a sobbing gasp against Angie’s waiting lips, her hips stuttering, as heat surged through her like fire. 

Angie’s fingers kept moving, but slower, gentler. The heat subsided, but it wasn’t gone, not entirely. A flame, searing and then banking and still burning, slow and steady, and she was panting hard, her slip clinging to her, her knickers around her thighs, and her skin damp with sweat.

Angie kissed her lips lightly, looking pleased with herself. “You should see yourself,” she murmured. “I never saw you look better.”

Peggy tugged on her hair. “I think I ought to return the compliment,” she murmured.

“Yeah?”

Peggy gazed at her through her lashes. “Perhaps when I have returned the favour.”

Angie’s face split in a grin. “I get the feeling you’re gonna be a fast learner.” She let Peggy pull her down to kiss her again. “So, how was it?”

Peggy smiled. She felt like a cat sprawled in a patch of warm sunlight after a bowl of perfect cream. “Reasonable,” she murmured, eyes dancing. “More than satisfactory. I would leave quite a tip for that service.”

Angie snorted and swatted her bare thigh. “Oh, shut up, English,” she said, smiling. 

Peggy felt her own smile widen. “Make me.”

Angie pulled a face, then leaned down and kissed her again.


End file.
